r weepings, and that fine performance, their
kissings. But when we see our veterans tottering to their fall, we
scarcely consent to their having a wish; as for a kiss, we halloo at
them if we discover them on a byway to the sacred grove where such
things are supposed to be done by the venerable. And this piece of rank
injustice, not to say impoliteness, is entirely because of an unsound
opinion that Nature is not in it, as though it were our esteem for
Nature which caused us to disrespect them. They, in truth, show her to
us discreet, civilized, in a decent moral aspect: vistas of real life,
views of the mind's eye, are opened by their touching little emotions;
whereas those bully youngsters who come bellowing at us and catch us by
the senses plainly prove either that we are no better than they, or that
we give our attention to Nature only when she makes us afraid of her.
If we cared for her, we should be up and after her reverentially in her
sedater steps, deeply studying her in her slower paces. She teaches
them nothing when they are whirling. Our closest instructors, the true
philosophers--the story-tellers, in short-will learn in time that Nature
is not of necessity always roaring, and as soon as they do, the world
may be said to be enlightened. Meantime, in the contemplation of a pair
of white whiskers fluttering round a pair of manifestly painted cheeks,
be assured that Nature is in it: not that hectoring wanton--but let the
young have their fun. Let the superior interest of the passions of the
aged be conceded, and not a word shall be said against the young.

If, then, Nature is in it, how has she been made active? The reason
of her launch upon this last adventure is, that she has perceived
the person who can supply the virtue known to her by experience to be
wanting. Thus, in the broader instance, many who have journeyed far down
the road, turn back to the worship of youth, which they have lost. Some
are for the graceful worldliness of wit, of which they have just share
enough to admire it. Some are captivated by hands that can wield the
rod, which in earlier days they escaped to their cost. In the case
of General Ople, it was partly her whippings of him, partly her
penetration; her ability, that sat so finely on a wealthy woman, her
indifference to conventional manners, that so well beseemed a nobly-born
one, and more than all, her correction of his little weaknesses and
incompetencies, in spite of his dislike o